


Blue Wind

by Pylades_Drunk



Category: American Idiot - Green Day/Armstrong, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Frühlings Erwachen | Spring Awakening - Frank Wedekind, Scream (TV), Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Scream Fusion, Child Abuse, F/F, F/M, Gratuitous references to the Vineyard Scene, He actually knows about consent., Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inapropriate relationship between an adult and a minor, Johnny and Connor are Basically two halves of Moritz' voice, M/M, Melchior with access to the internet, Other, Sorry Fraulein. You were the first teacher I could think of., Teen Pregnancy, Warning I greatly dislike Heather but love the other girls from American Idiot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 19:48:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15226566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pylades_Drunk/pseuds/Pylades_Drunk
Summary: When the brutal murder of Pretty Popular Girl Marianna Wheelan reminds her community of the murders committed 20 years prior, her classmates begin a fight for their lives.





	1. Chapter 1

Hanschen, age 16, was sitting at his computer, editing film footage on his computer. His room was decorated steam-punk cool. French film posters. A collage-in-progress made up of Polaroids, clippings, etc… On his bed, under a large aquarium, his pit terrier pup Batgirl snoozed. On his screen, an IM appears from “ARKGUY98”: “Have you seen this?” and the “WATCH ME” link appears beneath. Hanschen clicked the link. At first, Hanschen didn’t understand what he’s seeing, then he sees the shock of blonde, blue, and grey hair. His hair that so highly contrasted with his darker skin. It was a video of him and his boyfriend kissing. He groaned and dropped his head backwards, spotting his dad in the doorway.

“Dad? I’m sorry…” He started. His dad just held up his hand.

 

A car pulls up outside a gorgeous modern house. The driver, Deiter 18, a James Dean type, was mid-conversation with  smoking-hot mean girl Marianna Wheelan, 17, who was sipping from a bottle of something, very clearly tipsy.

“...it’s not cyberbullying, it’s the time-honored enforcement of the teen food chain. The weak are outed. Then eaten.” 

Deiter grinned and appreciatively said “You’re a mean drunk.” 

“Oh please. You agreed that video was just too good to trash.” Marianna snarked. Deiter leaned in, nuzzling her. His handed roam over her body. 

“Officer, she made me do it. She makes me do a lot of things…” Marianna ignored him, clicking through a few social media sites on her smartphone. 

“Twitter’s all over it. Facebook too.”

“Why don’t you make me a drink while we break the internet?” Deiter tried, kissing her. “I know your parents are still out of town…” Marianna thought for a moment then shrugged him off of her. 

“Yeahhhh... no.” Marianna scoffed. 

“Come on... you always say that.” Deiter groaned.

“Dei, I’ve been there and I’m most definitely done with that.” Marianna sassed, annoyed by Deiter’s bullheadedness. Marianna opened the door and headed to her house.

 

Marianna walked inside and greeted her tiny white furred and lilac collared puppy, Lila,  with more enthusiasm than most humans ever get from her. “Lila, sweetie, yes, mama’s back  from the trenches.” She showered Lila with kisses.

 

She headed back downstairs after changing into a black bikini that stood out against her skin and a sheer white robe. Her phone trilled, spooking her.

She’d received a Snapchat image from Deiter. She just caught a glimpse of herself undressing. She frowned, confused.

Marianna mixed a vodka-tonic. Her phone dinged again. Another Snapchat image, this time Marianna putting on her bikini, revolted, she said “Oh, Dei, you are skating on restraining order lake.” She took a sip of her drink and DING!, a text arrived from Deiter.

“Am I on thin ice?” Marianna stopped cold. Had he heard her? She looked around the house., 

“Deiter? If you are in my house…” She hissed. Pissed-off, she checked the alarm panel by the back door. All the lights were red. No doors open. No breaches.

 

She then checked the quiet living room with one timer-lit lamp on... den with shelves of daddy’s law books... mud room with coats on hooks and golf clubs.

Minutes later, she re-entered the kitchen. Not scared. Almost amused.

“Lila is a trained attack dog. She will gut you on command, Deiter.” She called, smiling slightly.  Her phone dinged again and showed another snap. This time it showed her checking the security panel. That’s when Marianna noticed the glowing red light on the webcam of the desktop computer at the kitchen’s office nook. She grinned as she figured out the game.

“Shouldn’t you be carrying a butcher knife and showing more cleavage by now?”

Marianna walked to the webcam, smiled suggestively and bent low to give the camera the benefit of her cleavage.

“That’s as close as you’re getting tonight, hacker boy.” And with that, she snapped the webcam off.

 

Marianna emerged onto the patio and the motion detector light clicked on. She nudged Lila back inside with her foot. She shut the door and walked toward the pool/spa area, the motion light clicking off behind her. Marianna pressed buttons on the spa controls. The automatic cover slid off. Steam rose into the night as the tub quietly bubbled to life. Marianna untangled the earbuds on her MP3 player, about to get in when the motion light by the house clicked on again. She stopped, looked back to the house, but saw no one in the light. 

“Deiter..?” She asked hopefully. A beat. Silence. The light clicked off, casting that area back into darkness. Marianna was a little disappointed. She grabbed her phone.

 

“Was that you?”

“Maybe. Is this a booty text?”

“I may have underestimated you.”

Marianna arched her neck as she let her robe drop.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Then get over here and do something about it.”   
She lowered herself into the water and let out a satisfied sigh. She set her phone down on the patio and waited.

Inside, her dog began barking. The motion light again clicked on by the house, Marianna looked up just as something thumped onto the patio and rolled, rolled, and rolled toward her until it falls into the hot tub. Marianna only caught a glimpse, but it was... it couldn’t be...   
As she felt in the water and pulled the object out, she realized it was Deiter’s severed head. She screamed. The motion detector light was smashed by someone unseen and shards of glass rained onto the patio…

Nearly hyperventilating with panic, Marianna scrambled out, banging her knee sharply on the lip of the hot tub.

Lila was still inside, barking furiously.

Marianna’s eyes scan the darkness as she fumbled for her phone, desperately trying to tap 9-1-1 with wet fingers. No luck.

Finally, she held the main button down on her smart phone, initiating voice-activated commands. She frantically whispered “Call 911.”

“Calling Pottery Barn.”

“Fuck!” she hissed, dropping her phone to the ground. She bolted for the sliding door back into the house, ignoring Lila’s barks of warning.

Marianna looked up and caught a glimpse, reflected in the glass door, of a figure with a wicked-sharp curved blade. Her body jerked violently. And then he was gone. She screamed in agony as she bled from her back... She spun to face her attacker but he was gone. Marianna ran as fast as she could to the back gate, slipping on the wet cement and her own blood. Almost going down. She fumbled at the back gate’s handle but it’s locked. Then she heard her phone ring. She turned and zeroed in on the lit screen on the cement patio twenty yards away... Looking around, trying to sense where he is, she bolted for the phone. She picked it up. Her finger was finally dry enough for her to slide the “answer” bar and raise it to her ear. 

“I told you to get a knife.” 

Marianna screamed in terror as he stabbed her. She fell and started crawling weakly to the gate. Marianna stumbled across the cement weakly, desperate to escape. She found herself teetering at the edge of the pool. A soft footstep behind her startled her. She turned just as the perimeter motion lights turned on. The killer was perfectly silhouetted by the glaring light behind him. A pitch black angel of death. 

“Please, don’t-- “ The curved blade slashed across her throat with samurai speed. Blood splattered on the cement as Marianna Wheelan’s body fell into the pool.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Ilse, now 16, was fresh from the shower. With no makeup, she’s grown beautiful in a delicate, easy-to break, almost bohemian way. But she doesn’t break easy. Her phone buzzed. She answered quickly, having expected the call. 

“Hello?” Ilse asked, confused.

“I’m at your front door.” She rolled her eyes and looked out her window and saw her tall, athletic boyfriend, Johan, on the front stoop. 

“Just keep it down. If you wake mom up, she’ll kill us both.” She mumbled, smiling into the phone.

  
  


Ilse and Johan were in the living room studying. Ilse had changed into a mint nightgown and had tied her long reddish brown hair up in a bun. She was quietly explaining how he was supposed to solve the math problems while he tried to kiss her.

“Damn your hair smells good. What is that? Passionfruit?” Johan purred.

“It’s peach. And this delightful wood pulp smelling-thing is your calculus book.” Ilse shot back, pushing him away. 

“Why do I have to pass calculus to play basketball so I can get a scholarship to take more calculus?” Johan whined. There was a beat of silence before the young artist dejectedly said “Maybe I should just go into business with my dad.” 

“Heating and cooling is an honorable profession.” Ilse joked.

“But…”

“Johan, you deserve your own life and basketball is going to give you that.” Ilse assured him. Then she pretended to think about what she said “Wait... what am I saying? I could have my boyfriend back this season? Forget basketball.”

Happy again, Johan pulled her onto his lap. 

“Too late. Pep talk administered.” He stared into her eyes “Boyfriend stunned by his good fortune.” Ilse smiled.

 

**Later that morning**

 

Johan had finally left. Now ready for school, Ilse sipped her sickeningly sweet coffee and opened her laptop, bringing up her Facebook page. One post marked “Not Safe For School!” had an attached video link. Ilse clicked it, but received a message that the video is no longer available. But the string of callous, cyber-bullying comments were still there (”Hanschen’s a gay-beeyotch!“, “Tongue: It’s what’s for breakfast.”, “That’s why I couldn’t hit that!”) Ilse frowned sadly. Moritz was going to be crushed.

“Is that the video where the lab beagles see grass for the first time?” Ilse jumped. She didn’t hear her mom come into the room. Dressed in a modest skirt and a sweater, She’s beautiful and whip smart but a little bleary as she squinted at the screen.

“Huh? No.” Ilse closed the laptop. “Just somebody over-sharing.” Maggie nodded, poured herself coffee and opened the newspaper. 

“So... how’s Al?”

“That’s Sheriff Hudson to you. Kids today... no respect.” Maggie reprimanded.

“Mom, he drove to Millbrook to buy you your favorite croissant.

“He was already going there to file” She put the paper down and asked “What are you getting at?” 

“Newsflash! He likes you and he’s really cute. For an old guy…”

“Ilse... we work together.” Maggie snapped the paper and went back to reading. “End of story.”  Ilse suddenly thought about what could be keeping her favorite adult from trying to get back into dating. It her dad.

“Just as long as this isn’t about about me. Cause that would be some seriously misplaced loyalty. And I know Sheriff Duke.” 

Behind the paper, Maggie reacted badly, but she keeps it hidden.

“It’s not.” She said briskly. “Moritz is here.” Ilse realized she may have gone too far but didn’t want to make matters worse. She shrugged into her thick overcoat and headed out to Moritz’ jeep.

 

Riverview High School was a classic early 20th century, brick- built fortress. Well-maintained. Lots of trees. Idyllic-ish.

Moritz, Ilse, and Johnny walked up to the school. People greeted Ilse and Moritz but ignored Johnny. 

“I’m gonna go find Will or Connor.” Johnny mumbled, shoving past his siblings.

Ilse’s eyes were drawn to a very familiar ‘54 chevy truck.  Hanschen stepped out of the car amidst scattered laughter. It was clear everyone has seen the video. His grim-faced dad drove away, leaving the younger teen. Ilse and Moritz said nothing as Hanschen ran past them. 

_ What happened to Hanschen? _ Moritz asked.

“A video was posted of him.” Ilse said. “Kissing a boy.”

_ I have to talk to him.  _ Moritz seemed distressed.

 

Hanschen stormed into school, flashing people in the eyes with his camera. A quartet of boys caught up to him. Johnny leading Ernst Robel, a hard of Hearing boy with curly black hair and a friendly face, Connor Murphy, a tall boy with dark bags around his eyes and an angry demeanor, and Will, a stocky boy who often looked depressed. Ernst gave him a sad smile as Connor spoke.

“Ah, the man of the of the hour.” Connor snickered. Hanschen groaned.

“Today is going to suck exceptionally hard.” He snapped, signing for Ernst’s benefit.

_ "What? No! You love taco Tuesday!" _ Ernst signed rapidly.

“Come on. Let it out.” Hanschen groaned. 

_ “It's just, Max von Trenk? Seriously? The socially awkward catholic-school film geek is your gay lover, and I have to find out on Youtube? I call a best-friend foul.” _ Ernst complained. 

“I didn't make the video.” Hanschen retorted.

“Oh, yeah, lack of production value made that pretty clear. But if we could just move right on back to the whole gay thing.” Connor responded.

“Okay, not gay. Not discussing it.” Hanschen shut down. Someone tapped his arm, spooking him. He looked back and saw Moritz. The slightly older teen looked exhausted, his reddish brown curls standing up in every direction. And haunted but he always looked like that.

_ Hanschen?  _ He asked.  _ I know who shared the video. It was Marianna Wheelan. _

“How do you know that?”  Hanschen snapped.

_ Because the account is one she uses for bullying purposes. _ Moritz gnawed at his lip, looking seconds away from either crying or hunting Marianna down.  _ Since it was my so-called friend, tell me what I can do to help. _

“Can you take the video down?” Hanschen asked.

_ Well, it's already been yanked. Probably flagged for content.  _ Moritz sneered as he signed this. But I reported the account for harassment and hate crimes.

“Thanks Moritz.” Hanschen was genuinely grateful Moritz didn’t abandon him and Ernst like Ilse did.

 

“I thought we agreed to trash that video?” Ilse snapped, watching Moritz and Hanschen’s usual group comfort the younger teen. 

“He was bound to come out one day.” Anna pointed out. 

“Look at him. What's the big deal if he is gay?” Otto scoffed.

“Okay, the big deal is it wasn't his decision to tell the world.” Melchior jumped in. “Heather?” The seventeen year old popped her gum.

“I wasn't the only one on that group thread. And I did delete that video.” The punk girl scoffed. She smirked slowly as she added. “After I sent it to Jenna. Boy-On-Boy is her demographic.”

“Melitta? Thea?” Ilse turned on the Rilow twins.

“Sorry. Zoe and Alana saw it on my phone.” Melitta apologized.

“Do guys even understand the term "viral"?” Ilse looked positively murderous. 

“I don't see Marianna anywhere. You know she did the wide release.” Katie, Wendla’s translator scoffed, relaying the anger the other fifteen year old felt. 

“Of course it was Marianna. She's a spoiled sociopath with no impulse control.” Melchior pointed out to his girlfriend.

“I mean, she's probably ditching right now to avoid Wendla’s good-girl wrath and your crazy artist anger.” Georg added. “Look Ilse, Hanschen will be fine.”

“Just give it 24 hours, okay? Someone will text and drive their hybrid into a tree and we'll have a new headline.” Johan soothed.

“Maybe Hanschen will Brendon Urie his anger into creative energy for one of his little films.” Melchior mocked everyone’s nonchalance. Everyone could see Ilse was still angry at all of them. 

“Ilse, he'll be fine. Okay?” Johan assured her. Wendla and Melchior had thoughtful looks on their faces.


	3. Chapter 3

“Cavemen made fires. Those fires cast shadows, and those shadows created fear. Men have been obsessed with scaring each other ever since.” Ms. Grossenbustenhalter stated. Ilse took no notice as she stared at the new kid.

“His name's Yousef Mahoney. He just moved here from Atlanta.” Georg whispered to Ilse. She startled slightly.

_I thought you weren't into high school guys?_ Otto looked annoyed. 

“No, that was just you.” Georg hissed. Otto scoffed, clearly offended.

“Georg. Would you please tell us which genre originated with "The Castle of Otranto"?” Ms. Grossenbustenhalter asked.

“The castle genre?” Georg answered.

“The Gothic Genre.” Yousef corrected. Ilse stared at him, impressed and intrigued.

“Thank you.” Grossenbustenhalter said. “Guys, look, I get it. Nobody wants to sit around reading 500 dusty pages about monks and curses. But nobody's forcing you to watch "The Walking Dead”.” 

“Ooh. Is "The Walking Dead" on the midterm?” Otto asked.

“Zombies are not literature, Otto.” Ilse scoffed.

“Why not? George Romero, Horace Walpole, it's all the same bones.” 

“Or the same rotting flesh. Yousef’s right. Gothic genre is all over TV right now. You have "American Horror Story," you have "Bates Motel," "Hannibal”.” Grossenbustenhalter pointed out.

“Escape the Night. Stranger Things.” Will interjected from across the room.

“How about Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Halloween?” Sean, Otto’s translator asked.

“Uh, those are slasher movies.” Connor pointed out. Everyone stared at him. “So, you can't do a slasher movie as a TV series. Well, think about it. You know, girl and her friends arrive at the dance, the camp, the deserted town, whatever. Killer takes them out one by one.” 

“90 minutes later, the sun comes up as survivor girl's sitting in the back of the ambulance watching her friends' bodies being wheeled past. Slasher movies burn bright and fast. TV needs to stretch things out. You know, by the time the first body's found, it's only a matter of time before the bloodbath commences.” Connor translated for Moritz.

 

**_Marianna Wheelan’s death is a great shock. Once you've seen the grief counselor, you're free to return home. Classes will resume tomorrow._ **

“This Wi-Fi sucks.” Katie whined. “The cops aren't saying much. Her mom found her body. The victim of foul play. I need gory details.” Wendla nodded and then continued her silent conversation with Melchior.

“Um, hello? Miss? Why am I here?” Johnny demanded. 

“That's the "mandatory" part of mandatory grief counseling.” Moritz shot back.

“No, but seriously, I feel shock, mild interest, but not grief.” Johnny snarked.

_Guys, Marianna was murdered in cold blood. Do you not even care?_ Wendla demanded. 

“It just doesn't seem real.” Melitta murmured.

“Here we go.” Otto smirked. “One of Marianna’s neighbors tweeted that her throat was sliced ear to ear.” Wendla and Katie made disgusted faces. “The press is all over this. They're playing the whole "Maybe Brandon James is Back" angle.” Ilse’s face went pale and Johnny gripped the armrests of his chair.

“Brandon James is dead.” Johnny and Ilse both snapped. 

“Who's Brandon James?” 

“Uh, he killed a bunch of students 20 years ago. He, um... He cut some others up. This is him. Ilse’s dad got stabbed. Johnny’s mom was close with the girl this was all over. He almost died.” Ilse shivered at the mention of her dad. “Brandon had proteus syndrome, like the elephant man. People say he was born a monster, but I think he was bullied and beaten into one.”  

“And you know all this... why?” Yousef questioned.

“I don't know. Some guys like sports. I like serial killers. And Brandon James is my Dallas Cowboys. He was a classic case of the deformed kid who lived in the shed. Mom homeschooled him. Dad was ashamed of him. His older brother, Troy, was the only one who cared about him. Whenever he went out, he wore this post-op surgical mask. They tried to fix his face a few times. Never really worked. What made him start killing people? Rumor is he fell in love. His brother said Brandon was obsessed. Wrote her anonymous love letters. Made her little carvings. Brandon found her at the Halloween dance. He got up the nerve to talk to her. It went okay at first.” Ernst explained.

“But then a bunch of drunk jocks jumped him. They thought they were saving her from a monster. After a lifetime of taking it, something in Brandon snapped. He killed five students by the time he was done. The manhunt ended at Wren Lake. The girl agreed to meet him. Nobody ever knew who she was. Except Moritz and Johnny’s mom.”

 

Ilse and her friend were gathered around Melchior’s laptop watching the news report.

“At this point, we're questioning persons of interest, and we're looking for Miss Wheelan’s ex-boyfriend, Deiter Johannsen. If anyone has any information on his whereabouts, please, call the hotline number on the screen.” Sheriff Hudson was on screen visibly tired. “Thank you.” 

_ So, Deiter did it? For reals? _ Thea asked, disappointed.

“Ilse’s mom worked the scene. Tell them what you heard.” Johan encouraged.

“A neighbor saw Deiter’s car parked out front around the time that Marianna was killed. There was no sign of forced entry, and his fingerprints were found on a glass in the kitchen. Now his foster parents can't find him. Nobody can.” Ilse admitted. 

“When he dated Marianna, they were always at each other's throats, but... How could he do that?” Anna murmured. Heather’s tablet beeped. 

“Do you think one keg is gonna be enough?” She asked absently. 

_ Do you really think a party's a good idea tonight, Heather? _ Moritz demanded. 

“It's a prayer vigil. People in mourning get thirsty.” Heather defended.

_ Ilse, your mom's tight with the Sheriff, right? Do you know if they went through Marianna’ laptop? _ Otto asked.

“My mom just handles the autopsy.” Ilse deflected. 

_I can't believe Marianna's just a body now._ Wendla said morosely.

_It kind of always was just a body, but top-shelf all the way._ Otto shot back.

“Hey, man, have some respect.” Melchior snapped. 

_I have extreme respect._ Otto shot back. He snickered as he added  _And so did most of the basketball team. And some of the football team. And a couple of lacrosse dudes._

“Okay, stop.” Katie retorted disgusted.

“And I'm sure the sheriff is going to question every single one of them. Where were you Monday night, Otto?” Anna snapped.

I was with Johan. Up to no good. Otto snarked.

“But you told me your phone died and you were stranded.” Ilse turned on Johan. 

“Ohh! I was. Otto picked me up.” Johan retorted.

_Yeah, you know what. I gotta go._ Moritz got up and ran in Hanschen’s direction.

 

_ Hanschen.  _ Moritz smiled awkwardly at the slightly younger teen. _ Do you want to come to a party tonight? Heather’s having a send-off for Marianna with booze. An Irish wake kind of thing. _

“Uh, no one in this town besides the Murphys has irish blood for one. And two I’m grounded because of Marianna outing me.” Hanschen snapped, signing aggressively. 

_And I’m really sorry about that. But I want to make it up to you._ Moritz signed. _We’ll be at Heather’s. It starts at 9:00 out at Wren Lake. I mean, you can bring whoever you want. But no pressure. Maybe I'll see you there._


End file.
